


Sherlock of the Dead

by CaptainDog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Un-death, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDog/pseuds/CaptainDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a bit of an accident when working with some spongiform encephalopathy, releasing a zombie plague across London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Screenplay format. While not a slash fic, feel free to speculate about what John was going to say

221B BAKER STREET – INT - DAY

John walks into the flat looking irritable. He glances around, but there's no-one in that he can see. He throws his coat and the newspaper on a chair and goes to the kitchen to make tea.

JOHN

God, I'm not going out again today. A lazy day in, that's what I need.

He glances at the kitchen table, which is covered in broken glass and what looks like an exploded experiment.

JOHN

Sherlock? Christ, everyone's gone mental today...

John starts messing around with the cupboards. Sherlock emerges from the next room, mostly in shadow. He creeps up behind John. He grabs John by the shoulder, surprising him and making him jump and shout.

JOHN

Oh, Sherlock. Gave me a bit of a shock. Sherlock? You okay?

Sherlock grabs John's shoulders and stares at him intently.

SHERLOCK

When you said 'mental' earlier, what did you mean?

JOHN

Erm, hostile. Irritable. Thought Mr. Robins next door was going to attack me when I went to get the paper.

SHERLOCK

Did anyone bite you?

JOHN

Bite me?

SHERLOCK

Yes

Sherlock starts to inspect John, presumably for bites.

JOHN

Wha-Sherlock! No-one bit me!

SHERLOCK

Are you sure?

JOHN

Yes! Positive. I would know.

Sherlock relaxes and steps back, but he still looks worried.

JOHN

What brought this on? And what were you doing that smashed all your equipment?

Sherlock looks down at his feet, back at John, and back at his feet again.

SHERLOCK

I...I may have...It was an accident.

JOHN

What was an accident?

SHERLOCK

The-

There is a low moan from the stairs. Sherlock and John turn, a look of horror on Sherlock's face, a look of confusion on John's.

SHERLOCK

Oh no. Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson appears at the door, her expression vacant and her jaw slack. Her face is greyish.

JOHN

Mrs. Hudson? Are you all-

SHERLOCK

Shut UP, John! Don't draw her attention to us!

JOHN

What? Why?

SHERLOCK

You imbecile! Too late, now.

Mrs. Hudson starts shuffling closer. John backs up nervously. Sherlock feels around behind himself, grabbing for something on the table.

JOHN

Sherlock. What the HELL is going on?

SHERLOCK

My experiment got a bit out of hand, all right? How was I to know that mutated spongiform encephalopathy transfers through saliva?

JOHN

You...Sherlock...how did you get mad cow disease?!

SHERLOCK

Mutated spongiform encephalopathy. Someone owes me.

JOHN

Oh, of course.

SHERLOCK

Look, can you chastise me later? She's going to try and consume our flesh.

JOHN

You made. Mrs. Hudson. A ZOMBIE.

SHERLOCK

A crude phrase, but that is essentially the situation.

JOHN

I'm going to bloody kill you.

SHERLOCK

I think she may do that for you. Can we FOCUS on the crisis at-

Mrs. Hudson lunges forward, baring her teeth. John falls back against the table to avoid her, and Sherlock strikes at her with a ring-stand. She topples backwards for a moment. John jumps away from the table and scrabbles around for something to use as a weapon. He finds a frying pan with unidentified contents coagulated on it, and uses it to bash at the back of her neck. Mrs. Hudson topples to the floor, her neck broken. Sherlock and John stare at the body for a moment.

JOHN

I just killed...my landlady

SHERLOCK

She was trying to kill you. I'm sure she wouldn't blame you, were she in a fit state.

JOHN

Yeah, thanks for that...

John rounds on Sherlock.

JOHN

Okay, you've got a lot of explaining to do. How exactly did this happen?

Sherlock shrugs and goes for his coat.

SHERLOCK

No time for that now, we have to go. I'm sure this has spread. I don't have the necessary tools to fix this here. We have to go to Bart's.

JOHN

What? Spread? Sherlock, do you mean to tell me that you've unleashed a zombie apocalypse?

SHERLOCK

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

JOHN

You said this is spreading. How?

SHERLOCK

It transfers from saliva to blood.

JOHN

What, so...

SHERLOCK

They have to _bite_ you. Now come on!

John groans in exasperation as Sherlock throws his coat at him.

SHERLOCK

Get your gun.

NEW SCOTLAND YARD – INT - DAY

Lestrade sits at his desk, filing paperwork. He takes a sip of coffee, and notices Sally outside, looking a bit panicked. He motions for her to come in. She closes the door securely behind her.

LESTRADE

Something wrong, Donovan?

SALLY

Yeah. Yeah I think so. Look, have you seen Anderson today?

LESTRADE

No, why?

SALLY

It's just...he's acting a bit...odd.

LESTRADE

Look, I don't want to hear it if this is about your little...whatever you have going on.

SALLY

No! No, nothing to do with that. Just. I mean, he's just acting really hostile. He...snarled at me.

LESTRADE

Donovan, I don't have time for this.

SALLY

All due respect, but I think you do. He sort of chased me down a hall. He tried to bite me.

LESTRADE

Bite you?

SALLY

You heard me right. Bite me. And he wouldn't say anything when I asked what he was on about.

Sally turns suddenly at a sound behind her.

SALLY

Oh fuck.

Anderson stands just outside the office, a vacant look on his pale face. Lestrade motions him in.

LESTRADE

Let's see if we can sort this out.

SALLY

Don't let him in!

Anderson slowly opens the door and shuffles his way in. Sally backs away, almost behind Lestrade's desk.

LESTRADE

Anderson, what the hell is going on?

Anderson groans and walks forward. Lestrade stands up, bewildered.

LESTRADE

Anderson, what-

Sally screams as Anderson lunges for her, saliva dripping from his mouth. She tries to duck out of the way, but he grabs at her. Lestrade quickly stands and throws his coffee mug at Anderson's head. He releases Sally and turns his attention to Lestrade.

LESTRADE

Okay, let's all just-

Anderson snarls loudly at him. Sally grabs a chair and hits him as hard as she can when he jumps at Lestrade. He crumples and writhes on the floor. Lestrade tries to grab him to subdue him, but he tries to bite him. He settles for handcuffing him.

LESTRADE

What the bloody hell is going on?

SALLY

Sir...

LESTRADE

What?

He turns to where Sally is pointing; the door to his office. Several officers stand there, all slack-jawed and vacant. A few of them have bloody bite-marks on their arms or necks.

LESTRADE

Fuck. What is this, Shaun of the Dead?

SALLY

What are we going to do?

LESTRADE

Survive.

Lestrade very slowly and carefully retrieves his extendable baton, keeping his eyes on the zombies the entire time. He extends the baton and takes a few steps out from behind his desk. Anderson twitches violently from the floor. The zombies startle, and advance. Lestrade and Sally fight their way out, him with his baton and her with the chair. They stop at the door and look back at their handiwork. Five people and Anderson lie, possibly dead on the floor of the office. They look back at each other.

LESTRADE

We need to get out of here.

SALLY

Agreed. Where do we go?

Lestrade starts to speak, but his phone rings in his pocket. He checks the number (Sherlock) and answers.

LESTRADE

Holmes, I don't know what's happening over there, but at Scotland Yard-

He pauses to listen to Sherlock

LESTRADE

Anderson. Sally's with me. Sherlock, I think the whole bloody building is like this. Yeah. Bart's. Okay. We'll keep in touch.

He hangs up and Sally looks at him sternly.

SALLY

Is the freak responsible for this?

LESTRADE

Donovan, I don't think even Sherlock Holmes could bring about a zombie plague. Come on, we've got to arm ourselves.

BAKER STREET – EXT - DAY

Sherlock and John, jackets and scarf donned, step outside 221b. John slips his gun into the waistband of his trousers and has his old cane strapped to his back. Sherlock has the frying pan, it's strange contents covered in Mrs. Hudson's blood, and a scimitar (as seen in The Blind Banker)tucked into his belt. They look around them as they step into the street. There don't seem to be many people, but a few cars are wrecked.

JOHN

How far do you think it's spread?

SHERLOCK

No way to tell. It's already gotten to Lestrade, so we can assume that it travels fast. Come on.

JOHN

Oh, Christ!

SHERLOCK

What?

JOHN

It's just...I should call Sarah. See if she's at the surgery.

SHERLOCK

If you can talk while we run. I doubt we'll be able to get a cab.

Sherlock nods at a cab with its front end around a lamp post. He starts to walk while John dials.

JOHN

Sarah? Sarah are you-

He stops talking as the sounds of screams coming from the phone.

SARAH

John? John! What's going on? There's-

There's a crash and a loud scream, and the line goes dead. John stops running and closes his eyes, pained. Sherlock stops and looks back.

SHERLOCK

Come on, John! We have to hurry.

John stares at his phone for a moment. Sherlock huffs and grabs his arm, pulling him along. They continue to run for a time, weaving in between cars. At the sound of a groan, Sherlock pulls John down behind a car. They watch as a zombie crosses the road. They hold their breaths and wait until it shuffles out of sight. They continue to run. There are bodies along the side of the road, all of them partially consumed. Sherlock stops short.

JOHN

What? What is it?

SHERLOCK

That's Mycroft's car.

They look ahead at the black car crashed in te street. Sherlock inches closer. John stays right behind him, his gun drawn. The car appears to be empty.

JOHN

Sherl-

John shouts as something hurtles from behind a car into him. The gun goes off and John falls to the ground, struggling with the zombie.

SHERLOCK

John!

Sherlock runs forward and hits the zombie repeatedly with the frying pan. It backs off of John and starts to crawl to Sherlock

SHERLOCK

Mycroft?! John, look out, there's another one!

John twists and pulls himself up in time to avoid the zombie Anthea who has sort of half-run at him. He pulls the cane from his back and holds it out, ready to fight her.

JOHN

Stay back. Come any closer and I will kill you

SHERLOCK

John, don't waste your breath. They can't be reasoned with.

JOHN

And you're just gonna kill your brother like that, are you?

SHERLOCK

If it comes to it, yes.

JOHN

Christ.

Anthea darts forward and John stabs at her with the cane. He holds her off with it so that he can inch his way to the fallen gun. Sherlock, meanwhile, swipes at Mycroft with his frying pan. John picks his gun up and shoots Anthea in the head.

JOHN

Dammit!

SHERLOCK

What is it?

JOHN

We've got company.

Several more zombies start emerging from behind cars and buildings, no doubt drawn by the noise. About four of them surround Sherlock, John, and Mycroft.

JOHN

Sherlock, any bright ideas?

SHERLOCK

I'll get back to you.

Two of the zombies close in on John, who tries his best to shoot at them. He hits one in the shoulder, but it continues. Sherlock bashes Mycroft over the head with his frying pan, finishing him off.

SHERLOCK

Give my best to Mummy, Mycroft.

He throws the frying pan at one of the two zombies coming for him, and it falls back. The other continues. He draws the scimitar, but it seems he will not be able to fend off both at once, once the first regains its balance.

JOHN

Sherlock?

SHERLOCK

John, not the best time to talk, in case you hadn't noticed.

JOHN

I know, it's just, if we don't make it-

SHERLOCK

John-

JOHN

I just want you to know-

SALLY

Take that, mother fucker!

John stares as Sally jumps into view and bashes a zombie in the back of the head with a baton. Lestrade shows up as well, and they help John and Sherlock take out the zombies. They stand, panting, with six bodies around them.

JOHN

Thanks for that.

SALLY

Glad we got here in time. Freak? Wanna tell me what this is all about?

SHERLOCK

As far as I can tell, the city is under attack by very disturbed individuals. Judging from a few of the bodies we found, they are cannibalistic.

SALLY

It really is a zombie apocalypse, then.

SHERLOCK

You all watch far too many films.

LESTRADE

Maybe instead of bickering, we could get a move on. I'd like this solved as soon as possible.

JOHN

Right.

They nod, and the somewhat battered group takes off.

BART'S HOSPITAL – INT - DAY

Sherlock, John, Lestrade, and Sally rush into one of the laboratories. Sherlock immediately goes to a station with a microscope and pulls a few petri dishes and test tubes from his coat pockets while Lestrade and John barricade the door.

SALLY

What're those?

SHERLOCK

Various samples of spongiform encephalopathy.

SALLY

What?

JOHN

He's got bottled mad cow disease.

SALLY

WHAT?! How did he get mad cow disease?

SHERLOCK

It's not important. Shut up, all of you!

SALLY

He's got mad cow disease. You did start this, didn't you, freak?

LESTRADE

Donovan, please. Let's just focus on what we have to do, shall we? Sherlock, is there anything we can do to help?

SHERLOCK

Didn't I just say? Shut. Up.

Lestrade huffs and settles himself on a chair. He looks like he's trying to collect himself. Sally watches Sherlock from across the room suspiciously. John hovers near Sherlock, ready to help if he can. Sherlock hurriedly mixes chemicals and examines things through the microscope. John takes out his phone.

JOHN

It's...fuck, it's all over Britain, now. They're releasing official warnings and everything. They think it may have taken a hold in France. Christ, the whole world's gone mad.

SHERLOCK

Pity Mycroft's dead. He'd keep all this troublesome panic to a minimum. And probably have us properly quarantined. Too late for it to be effective now. Ah! That's it!

LESTRADE

Did you figure out a cure?

SHERLOCK

A cure? No no no, an immunity agent. I just need to run a few tests. We have to get down to the morgue.

BART'S MORGUE – INT - DAY

The group of four race to the door of the morgue. They stop short at the entrance.

JOHN

Oh, fuck me.

Inside, Molly stands in front of a group of people, all zombies. A few of the people are naked and cut open, as if they have been autopsied, and missing organs. Molly herself is drenched in blood, and has a femur clenched in one hand. She looks quite mad.

SHERLOCK

What? But it's a disease. How can there be walking dead?

MORIARTY

Oh, I don't think you need an answer to that, darling.

Moriarty steps out from behind the army of corpses. He saunters to the stationary Molly and pats her shoulder affectionately.

MORIARTY

I was so glad that she could make herself useful again. My little zombie queen.

Molly snarls.

MORIARTY

This has been so much fun. Did you enjoy killing your brother, Sherlock? I know you didn't get on well, so I thought you might appreciate that.

SHERLOCK

What have you done? I released the-

MORIARTY

No, no, no! I did all this! You didn't really think that a little kitchen explosion would release an epidemic, did you? Aw, that's sweet. Such an adorable ego you have.

SHERLOCK

Explain.

MORIARTY

Did you feel guilty, Sherlock, knowing that you'd damned an entire city, maybe even the world? Did it hurt, knowing that you were the cause of so many deaths?

JOHN

Shut up.

MORIARTY

Oh, you brought your pet along! Excellent. This is going to be so much fun!

Moriarty does a little hop of excitement. It startles Molly a bit, and she snarls. He pats her cheek.

MORIARTY

Hush, love. You'll get your chance soon enough.

SHERLOCK

What have you done?

MORIARTY

Oh, I haven't done much. I have people do to it for me. I'm just in control. Isn't that right, Molly, my dear?

MOLLY

*gurgle of presumed assent*

MORIARTY

Don't mind her, she has a bit of a hard time with language nowadays. Shall we get down to business, Sherlock?

SHERLOCK

What do you want?

Moriarty just grins. There is a bang, and an oozing hole appears in his head. He falls backwards to be caught awkwardly by Molly. SHerlock looks around to see John holding his gun.

SHERLOCK

John. Do you realise what you've done?

JOHN

Rid the world of a terrible evil?

SHERLOCK

He was keeping them under control. They have no master now.

JOHN

Oh, f-

Molly screams as if in agony, and the army of corpses descends upon the survivors. The resulting battle is long and bloody and full of flying limbs and organs. When it is over, only John and Sherlock remain standing. Sally lies half-devoured under an autopsy table, and Lestrade pants, leaning against a wall, a very large bite taken out of his side.

MORIARTY

Sorry boys!

JOHN

Oh, no bloody way!

Moriarty stands, blood dripping from his mouth onto his Westwood suit. His eyes are sunken and vacant. He speaks in a sort of monotone.

MORIARTY

I did tell you I was changeable, didn't I? You see, death cannot stop us, now. Of course, my biological functions have ceased, but I'm still walking and talking.

SHERLOCK

How are you still cognitive?

MORIARTY

Oh, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Isn't that right, Johnny-boy?

SHERLOCK

What?

He turns to see John, who looks very confused.

MORIARTY

Adrenaline get the better of you? Didn't even notice you'd been bitten.

John slowly looks down at his arm, where blood is dripping.

JOHN

Sherlock...

SHERLOCK

John. John I'm so sorry.

John tosses his gun to Sherlock.

JOHN

I won't hurt you. Just finish me off.

MORIARTY

Nice try, Johnny-boy, but you'll still come back. As long as your head's attached, you can't die.

John cries out in agony and twitches. His eyes turn reddish.

JOHN

Sherlock. Sherlock kill me quick. I can - aarggghh - I can feel it. The hunger.

MORIARTY

Go on, Sherlock. End him. Take that scimitar of yours and do it.

Sherlock slowly draws the scimitar from his belt.

SHERLOCK

John, it's been a pleasure knowing you.

JOHN

Just do it. I'm ready.

John closes his eyes, waiting for the blow to come. He jumps at the gunshot, and opens his eyes. Sherlock is holding the gun to his own skull. He falls as if in slow motion.

MORIARTY

Well. That was unexpected.

JOHN

SHERLOCK! SHER-AAAUUUUUGH

John doubles over in pain, and when he lifts his head again, he is completely a zombie. Moriarty looks down with a small smile on his face. The other zombies that have fallen, as well as Lestrade and Sally, start to stir and pull themselves up again. Sherlock twitches on the floor. His eyes open, but they are vacant. He pulls himself to his feet.

SHERLOCK

Jim. Jim I'm hungry.

Sherlock starts towards Moriarty. John and a few of the standing zombies (including Molly) follow. They close in on the consulting criminal, who screams. He is lost from view under a crowd of moaning corpses.

AND THEY ALL UNDIE HAPPILY EVER AFTER


End file.
